How could you possibly be happier than a three year-old at his own birthday party?
On Saturday, JB and I ventured over the hill (aka the Sierras) to attend my nephew, Jack’s third birthday party. Our original plan was to ski from 9 am to 1:00 and then continue driving West to Folsom. Well, that was jinxed by us getting a very slow start to the day, so we didn’t make it to the ski area until about noon.
Next thing we knew, it was 2:15 before we were headed from the ski resort to Jack’s party. I put the pedal to the medal in an effort to make record time to Jack’s party, but I kept getting trapped in no-pass zones behind tourists driving REALLY slow.
We made it to his party about an hour and a half late. I missed singing the birthday song, the blowing out of the candles, the pinata, and a lot of the present opening. I was pretty bummed. But Jack was having an absolute blast.
His parents got him a bounce house for the party, and wow, was it a hit. When I arrived, Jack and two other toddlers were running around chasing each other around and through the bounce house and screaming in very high pitches. Before I knew it, Jack was pulling me towards the bounce house, saying ‘Net, bounce!’
After making sure that adults were indeed allowed in the bounce house, I joined Jack and a few of his friends in the bounce house. Yes, I was the only adult in the bounce house for the duration of the party, but man, I really do love bounce houses. Jack and I had a blast in there. Bouncing with a three year old is extremely exhausting, too, so every time I tried to leave the bounce house, I’d hear Jack saying ‘Bounce, Net, bounce!’
It was a perfect birthday party for the little guy. All the presents, cake, and candy a boy his size could handle, a bunch of friends his age, and tons and tons of bouncing. When we left that night around 8:30 pm, the kid looked like he was ready to pass out from exhaustion.
Pictures from the party will be posted tomorrow in honor of Jack’s actual birthday (the party was a few days early).
The rest of the weekend was really good. After Jack’s party, JB and I stayed to hang out with my brother and sister-in-law, and it was good to get in some good quality family time.
On Sunday, we decided to go skiing yet again. You see, I bought new ski boots last week, so I really wanted to try them out. My old boots were from my college days, and the liner in one of the boots keeps collapsing, so I had to constantly keep a wine bottle in the boot when I wasn’t wearing it, or risk not being able to get my foot in when I made it to the slopes. And I was having bad foot cramps in those boots, and my feet were almost always numb. So in other words, I really needed some new boots.
I went all out on the new boots. I got some really super duper high performance custom boots (cha ching). I expected the new boots to be ultra comfortable and to be super responsive. I think in my mind, I thought my experience skiing in the new boots would be similar to the angels opening up the heavens and guiding me down the slopes.
But skiing in my new boots was literally hell. They hurt like crazy. The first day, they were set with a tilt so that I was constantly in a squat position. I couldn’t even straighten my legs. This meant that the first run, which happened to be a beginner run, had my legs exhausted and shaking. Luckily, JB managed to adjust them that night, so Sunday was a bit better. But my toes were banging the front of the boot, my feet were going numb, and for some reason, the new boots made my calf muscles have to work extra hard, so my calves were burning the entire time.
Needless to say, I am headed back to the shop where I bought my boots, and I have a few choice words for the man that fit me in them.